


Braids and Baths

by anaraine



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2403626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaraine/pseuds/anaraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up, Hansel had acquired the knack of brushing and braiding long hair, but taking the time to play with Gretel's hair now is an indulgence that they often live without.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Braids and Baths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VallyLilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VallyLilly/gifts).



> Trick or treat, VallyLilly! I hope you have an awesome Halloween. ♥

Hansel is looking forward to a hot bath. He is sore and tired, and judging by Gretel's careful stride beside him, she feels much the same.

Killing witches is a dirty job. It's not so bad in the middle of it, when his blood is racing and distractions are pushed away to focus on the goal. When it's all over and done with, though... that's when he notices the squish in his boots is mud and that blood has been dripping down his face and staining everything. Gretel is a little bit better than him at keeping clean, but not enough to make a visual difference to the unobservant.

It's why they often have to find little creeks or brooks to get most of the gunk off before they return to town. Despite having contracted their services, civilians get twitchy when they stumble back into town, leaving a visible trail of blood behind them. (And honestly? It's just not a smart tactic. They are good, _damn_ good, but there is always a chance that they missed an accomplice. It is better to be safe than sorry.)

They drop off the head of the witch at the mayor's office (Hansel can approve of him wanting some evidence of the death, even though it was irritating to bring the whole head back with them) and receive the second half of their payment. From there, it's a quick trip back to the inn, where the proprietor is not exactly pleased to be told to heat enough water for two baths. He's getting paid well, though, so he does as instructed.

The hot water is as wonderful as Hansel thought it was going to be. He hisses as he lowers himself into the bath, but the heat goes straight to working on his aching muscles. Hansel enjoys it for a few long moments before he works a lather from the bar of soap and starts in on his skin. It only takes another moment for Gretel to join him, their knees knocking together as she settles into the tub. She holds out her hand in silence and Hansel passes her the soap. They scrub at their skin and dig under their nails. The blood and dirt caking their hair is rinsed out. The air is filled with quiet little grunts of pain and bitten off hisses as bruises are prodded. They are not very careful in this, lacking the patience to be gentle.

Gretel steps from the bath first, water sluicing off her skin as she stands. Her hair is a slick curtain against her back, and that is what tempts Hansel into leaving the cooling water. He comes up behind her and reaches, but does not touch. Not yet.

"Can I?" he asks.

Gretel turns her head, just enough to be able to look at him. "Yes."

Hansel nudges her shoulder with his own, moving them in the direction of the lone bed in the room. They towel their skin off enough to keep from soaking the bedding and Hansel sits, leaving plenty of room for his sister. After a moment's hesitation, she joins him. And Hansel runs his fingers through her wet hair.

Gretel relaxes, as if a yoke has slipped from her shoulders. Hansel doesn't go for the brush yet, but continues to comb his fingers carefully through her hair, identifying knots and places where he will need to be careful. Every touch causes Gretel to relax just a little bit more.

Hansel doesn't get to do this often. Growing up, he had acquired the knack, but taking the time to play with Gretel's hair is an indulgence that they often live without. (Sometimes Hansel wonders if Gretel is trying to preserve a memory of their mother, who had been the one to do Gretel's hair before bed _that_ night. It's not something they talk about, though.)

It is soothing to be allowed to do this. He cards the brush through her hair in even strokes, pausing here and there to tease a knot into loosening. Gretel's hair reaches the center of her back when it's not swept up into a braid, and he is in no hurry to rush through the process. He likes seeing Gretel like this, straight posture melting away to leave a boneless slump of contentment. It warms something within him, knowing that this is a privilege granted only to him. She would never trust a stranger at her back like this.

Gretel's hair is nearly dry by the time Hansel decides to move on. He settles on two braids, even knowing that will mean Gretel will have to rebraid it in the morning. Two braids —pigtails, he's heard some children call it— make Gretel look much younger than she is, and they need every advantage when dealing with idiots. But no one will see these braids except him, and Gretel has often complained about waking up with a crick in her neck after having slept on her customary braid.

He parts her hair and starts braiding the left side, a braid loose enough for sleep but tight enough to keep her hair from getting tangled during the night. Gretel makes a soft noise of amusement when she realizes what he's doing, reaching behind her to stroke the bare skin of his calf.

"Stop that," he says, swatting her shoulder lightly as his toes curl.

Gretel turns her head to smirk at him and Hansel swears and returns to braiding because if she moves her head around more the braid will come out wonky. Not that it should matter, since it is only a braid for sleeping, but Hansel wants it to look nice. Gretel's smirk widens, as if she knows what he's thinking, but she turns her head back and lets him complete both braids.

When he is finished, Gretel scoots backwards on the bed into the cradle of his legs, leaning into him in a loose sprawl of trust and pressing a chaste kiss to his throat.

Hansel isn't hard, and after the day they've had he's not really surprised. Still... "Do you want me to–?"

"No," Gretel shakes her head. "Just hold me."

He curls his arms around her tightly, slouching to rest his chin on her shoulder and breathe in her clean scent. "Always."


End file.
